


Luckless Romance

by IAmStoryteller



Series: Over The Love of You [4]
Category: Batman - Fandom, Batwoman - Fandom
Genre: F/M, and quote lyrics, yes I use song titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmStoryteller/pseuds/IAmStoryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mixed canon, no specific time frame mentions things in New 52 but reorders stuff from the pre-reboot, possible scene from the retelling Flamebird or the story Team Batgirl Adventures</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luckless Romance

“Goodbye, my almost lover  
Goodbye, my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
can’t you just let me be?  
So long, my luckless romance  
my back is turned on you  
I should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do” by a Fine Frenzy ‘Almost Lover’

Perhaps she was not over her feelings for Dick as much as she thought she was, as she absentmindedly tried to discreetly pack the few things that she had at the Wayne Manor. She had been staying at the Manor for the past couple of weeks, healing, after her encounter, after her failure. Dick was Batman now, since Bruce died, and Damian Wayne was Robin. (Poor Tim was chasing the ghost of Bruce—maybe he was right and Bruce was alive somehow; Tim was always the smartest of the Robins). They had found her just in time. The D.E.O. was about to pick her up, no doubt to get to Kate.

Alfred would not let her leave and right now, she knew that she had to leave before she did something stupid or act stupid in front of Dick, who most certainly did not need her to bring up her feelings for him or whatever, not when he had to be Batman now and raise Damian. Alfred’s shopping day was Thursday and he was gone maybe two hours. It would be enough to escape with Alfred’s interference. Aside from watching a couple of movies with her second cousin Damian, Damian had no real opinion about her and she knew that he would not stop her. It was awkward between them because she did not know what to say to him.

(Because she saw that he was like her in a way—he was a lonely rich kid with a dead father and uncaring mother, loved animals and had emotional issues and vented them through dressing up in a bright colored costume, running around at night, and kicking asses of grown criminal men and women).

Dick was too preoccupied with Gotham and Damian.

Bette would not have minded staying until she was sure that she could walk on her own without the intense pain in her abdomen, but then, she felt it. She remembered why she crushed on Robin, why she fell in love with Dick Grayson. He was a kind and loving person and yet a flawed human being.

She could not be a stupid girl with a crush again.

It was bad enough that he saw her nearly dead by her own mistakes. Even if she was not in love with him or whatever she was feeling for him now, she still looked up to him as her hero. That was something that could not, could never change.

“Mary Elizabeth Kane, what are you doing out of bed?! You’re going to reopen your stitches and I’m not the one that’s going to explain that to Alfred,” said Dick, entering her room and immediately he was picking her up and putting her back on the bed. Part of her could not believe he just scolded her with her full name and all and part of her could—he was both parts ridiculousness and seriousness. “Now, where do you think you’re going, Bette?” He was giving her the Batman-look, the one that Bruce had directed at her when they finally teamed up after all these years when that person was trying to take down the Wayne and the Kane families.

“Er, like totally back to my apartment?” She could not even look at him, because her face was getting red and dear God, he was still beautiful. And she was terrible, terrible person and she was going to hell, some day. 

Dick crossed his arms and looked sternly at her, more of a Nightwing-I’m-The-Leader expression. “And who would take care of you?”

“I…can manage,” said Bette, slowly, looking at him. Bette always managed on her own, better than anything. She was not going to cave and not do anything stupid. “And I have to leave eventually.”

“Is it me, Bette? Am I…making you uncomfortable,” Dick asked, seriously. He was not Batman for nothing. “I know things had always been awkward between us, and I’ve not been the nicest person to you in the past, but we were both Titans and friends.” She did not respond, she really did not want to get into this with him right now. All she wanted to do was run away…run away from this city, away from Kate, away from him.

It seemed that was the only thing that she knew how to do was run away.

“I am going to take a nap and pretend that this conversation did not start,” said Bette, turning away from Dick.

“Okay.”

When she awoke from her nap, Alfred was sitting in the chair with a tray of food on the nightstand. He had a stern look on his face. “Miss Mary Elizabeth, Master Richard had informed me that you tried to leave without being medically cleared this afternoon while I was gone.”

“I did, Alfred,” said Bette, honestly. “I need to leave.”

Alfred sighed. “My dear, you are safest here right now. Batwoman is having a war with the D.E.O. and Master Richard fears them going after you while you are injured to get to your cousin.”

Bette understood that, logically. But it did not help her situation with her feelings for Dick. Why did it have to be him? She had the chance with Gar’s cousin Matt, who was sweet, funny and normal and he liked her and she liked him well enough and it would have been her way into a normal life, with no capes and no cowls. No, Bette had to be oblivious and stupid (and an adrenaline junkie) and she just went to Matt’s wedding before she left for Gotham. She was happy for him. No, she had to crush on guys like Dick, like Roy, hell, like Gar. No one wonder people thought of her as a superhero groupie.

“I understand,” said Bette, replying morosely.

“It seems that bed rest is something that you, Master Bruce, Master Richard, and every other superhero cannot comprehend,” said Alfred, wryly. “Now, what would you like for dinner—carrot soup or tomato soup?” Bette sighed. She’s on a strict liquid food diet until told otherwise. “Tomato then? Excellent.” He got up and left her alone.

Alfred probably knew why she wanted to leave and she was grateful for the older man, who was as saint in her opinion (putting up with Bruce and all his little brats would not have been easy for just anyone). She turned on the television and avoided all news.

She watched tennis, wishing she could do something other than sit there.

“Kane, since Grayson required that I be nice to you continually, as he put it, do you know how to play chess,” asked Damian, entering her room. He never knocked and never apologized about being a little rude. Damian was handsome little boy—there was a lot of Bruce in him, but then, the way his skin was a beautiful caramel color, his long eyelashes, and the way he held himself was all Talia. Bette met Talia only once, at a charity event in Metropolis, when she (Talia) was running LexCorp for then-President Luthor. She was a scary woman.

“I know how,” said Bette, smiling at him. She sat up and he climbed up and sat opposite of her. He placed the chess board and the bag of pieces between them. “Black or White?”

“Black,” replied Damian, automatically. Bette shrugged, ignoring the ache in her shoulders. The game started in relative silence. They did not have much to talk about—not the girl from Malibu who was a poor excuse for a superhero and the little Prince of Gotham, the most skilled Robin. Bette watched him play. When she was young, she joined many clubs and activities, mostly outdoor sports but chess seemed like a good thing to learn. He was still young that he barreled through the first few rounds, without thought.

If she really wanted to be mean, she could beat him in four turns, but that would hurt his pride too much. The game took more than an hour.

“Checkmate,” said Damian, frowning. “You let me win.”

“I did,” said Bette, replying.

“Why,” he asked, as if accusing her of a heinous crime.

“Why not,” asked Bette, smiling. 

“Rematch and play for real this time.”

It was an order and a demand, not a request.

Several minutes later, he was storming out the room, fuming mad. Once he lost, he flipped the board and cursed at her in Arabic (it was rather funny) and he rushed out of there. Bette merely cleaned up the mess. Dick and Alfred came rushing in a few minutes later, worried looks on their faces.

“Miss Mary Elizabeth, get back into bed,” said Alfred, with a frown. She was sitting on the floor, collecting the fallen pieces of the chess game. “I will clean it up.”

“Oh, Alfred, I’ve got it,” said Bette, sighing.

“You alright? What happened,” Dick asked, grabbing her gentle by the arm and picking her up again. Once again she was placed in the bed. “He looked murderous.”

“I just beat him in chess,” said Bette. “He didn’t take it well.” Dick sighed.

“I told him to be nice to you,” said Dick, he smiled sadly. “Sorry.” Bette took Dick’s hand in hers.

“It’s not his fault. How he was raised by his mother—winning, being the best, being perfect is everything to him and when that’s threatened, he’s like an angry cat,” said Bette, “It’s a great burden for someone so young to think that he has to be perfect all the time. I can tell it bothers him.”

Dick sat on the edge of the bed. “What?”

“Knowing that his father won’t see him grow up to become Batman, knowing that Bruce loved you, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Steph and Cass as his children, each a whole complicated mess in itself,” said Bette. “He’s got no patience and a temper. Remind you of someone?”

Dick laughed. “Yes, he’s a lot like Bruce.”

“With you as his mentor and big brother, he’ll be fine, Dick, just give him time to adjust,” said Bette, smiling like she heard a joke. “And I suspect he’ll come back for a rematch sooner rather than later.” Bette ignored the warmth that holding Dick’s hand gave her in her heart and wondered what went on his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time: There's a visit or two and things happen. (How vague, am I right?)


End file.
